


Simple Luxuries

by pristinecas



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:17:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pristinecas/pseuds/pristinecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ukai really didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. Takeda was clever, and could read Ukai like a book, which didn’t help Ukai in the slightest when he found himself falling for Takeda. Falling wasn’t the word. He’d tripped and taken a swan dive head-over-heels for the man who now lay in his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Luxuries

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta thedamwriter, whom _I_ want to cuddle.
> 
> God I love these idiots so much. I think this is the first fic I've written without even a little angst. Enjoy some cute volleyball dads.

Ukai woke up first. He usually does, his mind used to being aroused from sleep early in the morning to begin Sakanoshita shifts at ungodly hours of the morning, when the only customers were salarymen who took a wrong turn after a night of downing alcohol at the local izakaya. Those mornings were spent in solitude, Ukai occupying himself with rings of smoke blown into the musty morning air of the shop, the only company the shadows cast by the rows and shelves. By the time customers began to make their way through the doors again, he would’ve fallen asleep at the register twice. 

He hadn’t woken up for the morning shift in months, however, not since he hired some of the graduated third-years who scratched the back of their necks when asked about their plans for college and the future, eyes lighting up with something like relief when Ukai told them he was looking for help around the store. The team’s third-years had gone off to college, the three of them, and though their presence was felt in the emptiness of the gym without Sugawara’s enthusiasm or Daichi’s commandeering Ukai couldn’t be happier for them.

No, Ukai had been weaned off of early mornings. No longer did he blink his eyes open to witness the still-dark sky, nor did he watch the sun rise from the window of Sakanoshita. He instead woke to the filtering of sunlight through the curtains, the blackout properties of which were certainly questionable. It left streaks of sunlight over the rumpled sheets twisted around legs, casted like rays of celestial grace in the morning hour. The room itself hung in a dim haze, not bright but certainly not dark, and Ukai shut his eyes against the unfamiliar sensation of light after several hours of sleep.

It took moments for Ukai to register the weight atop his arm, the slick of bare skin against bare skin, the lingering of fingers above his back just behind where his waist met his hipbone. There was a mess of dark hair beneath his chin, a face pressed against his neck and collarbone, a body curled up against him beneath the thin blankets that sought to provide comfort without stifling the sleeper with the added warmth to the heat of Miyagi summer. Ukai was abnormally warm, but he couldn’t bring himself to shift the man pressed up against his front.

Takeda was draped across him like something picturesque, and Ukai shifted gently to press his lips to the other’s forehead, Takeda wriggling deeper into Ukai’s arms in protest of the movement away, an unconscious reaction. His legs were tangled with Ukai’s, and it was difficult to tell where one body ended and the other began. Ukai rubbed circles into Takeda’s back with the hand that wasn’t supporting the other man’s head, hand resting over his spine, and the skin under his fingers was warm. Takeda smelled like the shampoo that Ukai kept under the sink for him, coconut-y and sweeter than the man himself.

The soft breaths that Takeda puffed against Ukai’s collarbone suggested that he wasn’t intent on waking anytime soon, and he shifted slightly in his sleep, one socked foot nudging Ukai’s ankle gently. After their first night together Ukai had discovered that Takeda had freezing cold feet, and he’d insisted that the other wear socks to bed from then on. Takeda, being the absolute doofus that he was, had chosen to don a pair of fuzzy socks patterned with minuscule pink stars. They were adorable, and Takeda was beautiful. 

Ukai really didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. Takeda was a professor, the stereotypical teacher who spent more time pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose with his index finger and gesturing to details with the tip of the pencil he kept in his back pocket. He was clever, and could read Ukai like a book, which didn’t help Ukai in the slightest when he found himself falling for Takeda. Falling wasn’t the word. He’d tripped and taken a swan dive head-over-heels for the man who now lay in his arms. In his arms, in his bed, in his house in a small town in Miyagi where the best thing to do was walk to the corner store in the hopes that the manager would have the fan on, where melting ice cream created sticky fingers and soda-flavored lips. How exquisite Takeda was, to exist in a place created of such simple luxuries. 

Ukai knew if he didn’t move from his place on the bed now he never would, that he would inevitably choose instead to remain by Takeda’s side for hours at a time as he had done several times in the past. He also was fully aware that Takeda was a horrendous personality in the early hours if not satiated with a mug of coffee between his hands, and Ukai was responsible for brewing said coffee.

He kissed Takeda’s forehead a second time, this time as a dismissal, gently extracting his arm from under Takeda’s head, stroking up and down his back once before rolling to the other side of the bed. Throwing the covers off of his chest and legs sent shivers down his limbs and spine, the morning air a change in temperature from the stifling warmth of the bed. It had been pleasant nonetheless, that warmth, mixed with the exhilarating happiness that Takeda brought into Ukai’s life. If anything was stifling, it was that overwhelming sense of happy that filled Ukai’s chest and wrapped itself around both his throat and his brain.

Ukai busied himself with breakfast with ease, having done it every day since Takeda had gradually moved a duffel’s worth of clothing and possessions to the topmost left drawer of Ukai’s dresser. The bed was big enough for two – Ukai couldn’t sleep on a futon, it killed his back – and so the arrangement was made. Takeda, however, couldn’t cook for shit. He could recite ancient poetry verbatim, but cracking an egg seemed much too difficult a task for the teacher. Ukai, on the other hand, found solace in the kitchen. It was peaceful. The hum of the coffeemaker was friendly, food didn’t judge. The first time he’d explained this to Takeda he’d received a raised brow in response, but Ukai knew that it was simply because Takeda had never had the same connection to preparing food that he did. He was constantly cooking, his meat buns famous town-wide, just as he had since he was younger. It was times like these where Ukai stood in the middle of his dingy kitchen pouring miso soup in bowls, the smell of cooking fish sweet and heavy in the air.

Ukai hadn’t been in the kitchen twenty minutes when a pair of arms gripped him around the waist, and though Ukai smiled he said nothing, picking up a full mug of coffee from the counter and placing it in one of the hands that had been flat over his stomach. Takeda’s arms slid back, the handle of the mug gripped tight in one hand, and Ukai continued to shove fish around the pan in front of him with a spatula, smirking as Takeda moaned around a mouthful of coffee.

“Need a moment?” Ukai said. Takeda kicked him in the shin. The fuzzy socks made it significantly less threatening. Switching the stove off, Ukai turned around, chuckling as he saw Takeda squinting up at him, glasses missing from his face.

“Forgot something?” He tapped the bridge of Takeda’s nose, and the other man huffed in response before putting the mug to his lips and taking another long sip.

“I was hungry,” he said, and Ukai leaned forward to kiss him gently, eyes fluttering closed as he did. Takeda tasted like coffee and convenience store toothpaste, and they were kissing in Ukai’s tiny kitchen in their boxers–and star-printed socks, in the case of one of them–while Takeda drank shitty coffee out of a Karasuno mug from Ukai’s own school days.

It was a piece of eccentric paradise in the middle of a wasteland, and Ukai wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!
> 
> Come chat on [Tumblr](https://pristinecas.tumblr.com)


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